Before The Worst
by LongLiveLaughter
Summary: This is based on SwimmingBoiWonder's story 'The Second Chance at Life' Annabeth made some pretty bad decisions, and was kicked out of Camp Half-Blood. Percy tries to get her back on her feet, and he still has strong feelings for her.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first time writing something like this, so go easy on me.**

**This is sort-of based on the amazing SwimmingBoiWonder's story "A Second Chance at Life" which I strongly recommend you read.**

**DISCLAIMER: Your a retard if you think I own Percy Jackson.**

* * *

**Annabeth's POV**

Pain. That's the only feeling I have left, and even that is being exploited. Soon I'll be completely numb.

They said I was strong-willed. They said I was on my way to the top. The said I was invincible.

Now look at me: just a shell of something that used to be a hero.

It all started the day we were supposed to burn Percy's shroud. Two weeks after the explosion on Mount St. Helens, and he has been silent. At first I had hope that he would come home: safe and sound. But as the days started to go on, I knew it was useless. He was gone.

To say that I was a total wreck was an understatement. I felt like there was nothing left to live for. Times were hard enough already, with the war with Kronos going on. Percy was the only person who could make me laugh when I was the verge of breaking. I already lost Thalia _twice _and Luke... I wanted to believe that there was a part of him that was still good; the Luke I used to know. But that didn't change the fact that he left. And now it seemed that Percy has left me, too.

It hurt so much. I just wanted for it to end; I wanted to follow him to Elysium.

Early enough for everyone to still be asleep, I left. Somehow I managed to get back to the city. How, I couldn't to tell you. I just walked around for an unknown amount of time, no destination in mind. _Just go for a walk. You'll feel better after some time alone._

Yeah right.

"Annabeth?" a voice said behind me. It sounded faraway, as did everything else these days. Like they were on earth, and I was in Limbo. Half dead, half not.

I kept walking until a hand landed on my shoulder. "Annabeth, what's wrong?"

My eyes slowly traveled up the person's arm until they landed on their face. "Shelby?" I asked weakly. It's the first time I've spoken in days.

"Yes, it's me. What happened?" she asked, concerned.

Shelby and I met when I saved her from a hydra last year. Through the Mist, it just looked like a street gang.

"Nothing," I said unconvincingly.

She gave me a look. "Annabeth..."

"Fine," I sighed. "Percy..."

"You mean Percy Jackson? The best friend you were telling me about?"

Hearing his name out-loud is to much for me to bear **(AN: I used the wrong 'bear' didn't I?)**. I burst into tears.

"Annabeth?" She gave me a hug, rubbing circles into my back. That made me cry more; Percy used to do that.

"He- He's gone!" I said over my sobbing.

She squeezed me tighter. "Oh, Beth. I'm so sorry."

Bull shit. When someone leaves you don't say sorry! It's completely useless to apologize for something you had _nothing _to with. Everybody should know that; Percy did.

I realize I'm angry. How could he think that he could take on over hundred telekhines by himself? How could he have not let me stay with him? How could he leave me? How could I _let _him?

Some Daughter of Athena I am. I could've come up with a logical way to get us both out but you know what I did. I kissed him and left. I left him to die.

Shelby noticed my change in mood. "I think I have something that will make you feel better."

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Come with me," she motioned for me to follow. We weaved through people on the busy street until we cam to an alley.

My demigod instincts kicked in. "Shelby..."

She faced me. For the first time I notice she's wearing a long trench coat. She smiled knowingly."Relax, Beth," she said soothingly. "I have something that will make you feel _a lot _better."

With every step she took toward me, I took a step backward. "Shelby, what..." Some how she managed to get me pinned against a wall.

I left my knife at camp. Stupid, I know, but it's not like it would be of much you in this situation.

Panic ran through me as she grinned. Slowly, she started to open her trench coat.

"SHEL-" I was confused. Underneath she was wearing a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. It was what was clipped to the inside of the coat itself that had me speechless.

Little Zip-Lock bags filled with white powder were in neat little rows, with white plastic strips in-between them.

She unclipped one bag and one strip and handed them to me.

I eyed them skeptically. "What is this?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "I thought you would have figured it out by now." I raised an eyebrow and she sighed. "It's crack."

If this was a cartoon, my eyes would have popped out of my head. "WHAT? SHELBY-"

"Annabeth, you're in grief. I'm just offering you a way to escape."

I eyed the bag again. The logical side of brain was screaming _IS SHE INSANE? THIS STUFF IS ILLEGAL! PUT IT DOWN RIGHT NOW AND GO BACK TO CAMP! _

But there was another part of me that wanted to do it. _An escape. I can escape the pain._

"How do I use it?"

That was the last time I ever saw her. I found out later that she had been arrested for drug dealing.

I loved the effect it had on me. It numbed my senses; while I was high, the pain and hurt were forgotten. I felt alive for the first time in weeks.

Later that day, Percy came back. I hid the crack in the woods, where no one would ever find it.

It was months later when I had an unnatural craving for it. It was so intense that immediately ran toward the spot where it was hidden.

I promised myself that every time my emotions were to messed up to handle, I would take it.

That promise turned into doing it once a month, to every few weeks, to once a week, to a few times a week, to every day.

By the time I was 16, I was totally addicted.

An Apollo kid found me high one day, and told Chiron. Chiron tried to reason with me, to make me throw it away and never look back, but I couldn't. I was to proud and stubborn to admit that I had a problem and needed help. Since I wouldn't stop, he kicked me out of Camp Half-Blood.

My family and boarding school were in San Fransisco. All the people I know in New York I knew (who weren't in jail) were demigods. And the only one who lived anywhere near here was Percy. I couldn't go to him; i didn't want him to see me like this. He would take the bag away.

Now I wish that I had gone to him, or had listened to Chiron, or had never accepted the bag in the first place.

I was living in a box, begging for food, when they found me.

They said they could help. They said they would feed me, give me food, treat me like family if I was willing to help them with they're business. I was pretty much desperate by that point, so I accepted. They wanted me to do them a favor before they took me to my new home. Of course I said yes; they were offering me help, it's the least I could do.

I should've taken my chances on the streets.

They brought me to an alley, and took of they're belts. Next thing I know is I'm being beaten and raped.

That's pretty much how my life is now. The 'business' that they run is really them selling women to men for their pleasure.

Some how, I became the most in-demand prostitute they have. I am sent on 'assignments' nearly everyday. And the days that I'm not, my bosses or someone on their staff get to have their way with me.

The old me would would laugh if someone told her that this is what she was destined to be.

I have tried countless times to escape, but they always stopped me before I got more than five steps away from the building. And once they brought me back, I would get beaten again. Eventually I stopped, but the beatings didn't.

Of all the crap that I've done, my biggest regret is not saying goodbye to Percy. He could have taken me in. He could've made me stop.

He could've saved me.

**That's it. I'll try to update soon. **

**REVIEW!**

**-LongLive**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah, I know. It's been a while since I've last updated, but I'm BACK!**

**DISCLAIMER: Me owns nothin.**

* * *

**Annabeth's POV  
**

"GET UP WHORE!"

That was my boss, waking me up for another day of senseless fucking.

We (me and the other prostitutes) sleep on the floor of a locked, cramped room. We've learned to lie down close together for warmth, but it doesn't help much.

Yesterday I was called in by three escapees from the county jail. The only thing they said to me was "We've been in that hell hole for too long. We need a good fuck." before I was abused, once again. That time was especially bad; I could still taste cum in my mouth, and my crotch was throbbing in pain.

Whips, belts, dildos, vibrators, rulers, gags... I've felt it all. The bosses put an enchantment on all of us: after 1 hour, the red marks, the forming bruises, any sign of abuse is erased from our bodies. At first glance, you wouldn't be able to tell what was happening. If you look at our eyes, than you'd see the pain, the fear.

I stood up and walked to the door, limping slightly. As I walked passed my boss, he slapped my ass.

He leaned over and growled in my ear, "You've got an important call for today. The guy's paying in _drachmas_, so you better not fuck this up." I nodded; I wasn't aloud to speak unless it was to a client. "Go to the Showers." He slapped me again.

It took every once of my will power not to break down there and then. If they were payed in _drachmas, _then it had to be a demigod who placed the order. They're so much more brutal, more merciless, more cruel...

I'm even more disgusted with myself for being one.

The Showers aren't exactly what they sound to be. It's just a small room in The Office that has a large vanity in a corner. Pushed up against a wall was a wardrobe with all types on lingerie varying in different colors. At the start of this 'business', the bosses raided several Victoria's Secrets' stores. So now we have our own little slut store.

I pull on a black lace dress that barely covers my ass and 3 inch heels. I walk over to the vanity and look in the mirror.

Stranger. Disgusting. Stupid. Worthless. Anonymous. Unrecognizable. Those words come to mind every time I look at myself.

_How could I let this happen? _

I stare down at the mountains of make up on the table. Somewhere deep inside, the old me is screaming _HOLY SHIT GET THAT CRAP AWAY FROM ME! _But that part of me is so beaten down, _broken_, that I barely hear it.

With shaky hands, I apply my make up. As I continue to stare at myself, it's hard to not break.

What happened to me? What happened to the girl who wouldn't let _anything _get in her way? What happened to the girl who's fatal flaw was having _to much pride? _

That girl is somewhere inside, wondering why the hell she is being confined.

* * *

Apparently the client insisted on meeting at an old apartment building. Why? I don't know. If I asked, they're punish me.

Going outside scares me. Getting into a car with blackened windows scare me. Being surrounded by men all looking at me with a hungry expression on their cruel faces scare me. Going into an abandoned building to meet with a demigod who payed money to rape me scares me. The realization that I'm scared of so many things is enough for me want to burst to tears.

Really, my biggest fear used to be _spiders. _I still am, but that is nothing compared to the shit I've gotten myself into.

One of my bosses shoves me into a room that looks too different from the rest of the apartment. I can't think of why, but my inner Athena girl is screaming at myself for being so oblivious. I probably don't care what the difference is. As far I'm concerned, this is just another room that's been prepared for another fucking.

Before they close the door, the guard who is supposed to be standing outside speaks in a low voice, "Don't screw this up. After this guy, it's my turn." I shiver at his tone. He must take it as a good sign and winks at me. Then the door closes and I'm left alone.

I walk over to the bed and sit down. Any minute now, a guy will come in to have some 'fun'. I try to slow down my heart rate and take deep breaths. I have to look excited about this; if the client comes in and sees me looking petrified, my bosses will be pissed. So when I hear the doorknob turn, I swallow down my fear and put on my best seductive smile.

The client is _really _tall; at least 6 ft. His back is toward me, so I can't see his face. But I do notice how large his muscles, and I have to ignore my anxiety. Muscles that big could do some serious-

My eyes widen as he turns around. His intense sea green eyes took in the site of me.

"Annabeth..." He walks toward me, the concern evident of his face.

I take a step back for every on he takes forward until I end up pressed against a wall. My body goes rigid as a million thoughts run through my mind.

_Why is he here? How could he know about this place? Why would he want to do this? Why did the fates decide to screw with me anymore than they already have? Why isn't he looking at me in lust or disgust?_

He reaches his hand out and I instinctively flinch back. His eyes flash. "Annabeth, it's okay. You're gonna be okay," he whispers.

I start to tremble from the effort of not falling. "Wh-what are you doing h-here?"

He puts his large hands on my shoulders. "We're getting you out."

"Moan."

"What?"

"There's a guard outside the door. Moan or he'll get suspicious," I say hurriedly.

"Gnnnn." He does it with a straight face, which makes him look retarded.

Something strikes me. "What did you just say?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I moaned."

"No, before that."

After a few minutes, he finally gets it. "I said we're gonna get you out."

**That's it for now!**

**REVIEW!**


End file.
